
I’ve spent the week with a leaked copy of Portishead’s new album (Third) practically on repeat play (It is officially released on April 28th) .Arriving after an hiatus of 10 years and only their third studio album since 1994, I’m sure I was not alone in expecting the worst. Lengthy gestation periods more often than not signify a lack of direction and a dearth of ideas.Yet from the kick-ass opening track (Silence) you know that this is not going to be the case here.
After some words in Portuguese (about the power of threes?) the track launches into a wonderfully skewed loop reminiscent of Roxy Music’s ‘The Bogus Man’It’s fully two minutes before we hear Beth Gibbons voice. and when we do it’s immediately evident that she’s not about to wax lyrical about life suddenly being a bed of roses. In short, she still suffers.On ‘Silence’ she complains of being “tormented inside – wounded and afraid”, a lament which sets the tone for the relentless self examination (and criticism) that pervades the whole album:”taste of life – I can’t describe – is choking up the mind” (We Carry On)”alone with self doubt” (Deep Water)”I can’t deny what I’ve become I’m just emotionally undone” (Magic Doors)”tired and worn out – “I’m always so unsure” (Threads)In tone this single minded intensity is akin to that of Samuel Beckett in the way it chartsa recurring sense of isolation, bordering on depair, in an increasingly hostile and threatening world.As with Beckett, the very act of confronting this condition head on becomes life affirming since the alternative is to sink into a slough of despond or simply give up.
The centerpiece is ‘We Carry On’ where the words come in mostly monosyllabic gaspsand tell of grinding repetition in our lives of quiet desperation. “On and on – I carry on” Beth urges herself as the relentlous beat is punctuated by a Jandek style clanging guitar and bass lines like those on Joy Division’s ‘Dead Souls’. It’s an astonishing track that had me hyperventilating along.
Portishead’s sound now has a greater power and urgency, more industrial punk than the scratchy dreaminess of their first two albums. Dubstep may have has largely superceded Trip-Hop as the soundtrack for a menacing and nightmarish urban world but, make no mistake, Portishead are back at the cutting edge.
As serious as your life.








Now I want to hear it: I wasn’t sure what to think. As well as ‘ I can’t go on. I’ll go on.’ there is also, just as germanely:
‘Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.’